In a multicultural metropolitan city like Toronto, it is normal to hear a bunch of random languages being spoken when you are in a public space such as bus, subway, university or some restaurant. I hope I don’t sound racist, but most often I subconsciously associate certain languages with people who look a certain way. For example, if I see a brown guy, I assume he is Indian (or Paki, Nepali, Bangladeshi, Sri Lankan) and I certainly don’t expect him to speak say, Norwegian. This post is about situations I encountered, during my past three years of living in Toronto, when such assumptions were defied.

• The first time I heard a non-Indian person speak Hindi in Toronto was when I was waiting tables (back in 2007) and a fellow waiter, who had long blond hair, blue eyes and strong East-European features (later I learnt that he was Czech) started chatting to me in Hindi. I thought that was unusual, but then I was in Toronto for less than a month, what did I know. I told him I was from Mumbai, and he said in Marathi, “मुंबई छान अाहे” “Mumbai is nice”, ehhh.
• Few months back I went to my bank (Bank of Montreal) and a young East-Asian lady, with a distinctly Chinese name was (wo)manning the service booth. I greeted her and subconsciously prepared my ears to hear some Chinese-accented English, but I was shocked when she said: “आप भारत से हो?” “Are you from India?” (formal). For few seconds, I stood there staring at her, dumbfounded. She said that she loved shocking people like that using the language she picked up as a child living in India.
• Then this one time I was in a west-Indian Roti shop, waiting for my order when two old east-Asian ladies walked in. ‘Two Chinese grandmas in a Jamaican restaurant… that’s kinda strange!’, I thought. I was almost expecting to hear some accented English, but instead I heard strange conversations: “Gimme wen glassa wata pleez”, “De nex time me will buy”, “How yuh eet so much!”, “Tek yu time man” and so on. Later a Jamaican friend told me that there are several people of Chinese ancestry that lived on the island. Pheww, who knew!

I’ve had reverse experiences too!

• The other day I was in the grocery store listening to my Russian lessons on iPod and repeating the lines, “Hi, if you have some time, would you like to have a drink with me?” “Yes why not, I like Vodka”, when a babushka (old woman) bumped into me and asked, “Ты в порядке?” “You okay?” I blushed realizing what happened.
• When I came back from Russia last year, at Toronto airport a Russian man asked me, “Ezkyooz me, izz the boos come ere?” Somehow, automatically I replied to him in Russian, giving him directions to the bus stop. I could see in his eyes the joy of hearing your mother tongue when you are in a foreign country, something that I’ve experienced few times.
• I posted an advertisement on craigslist looking for a study buddy to practise Russian with. Guess who showed up? A Chinese-Korean man who told me that he was learning Russian because he wanted to preach the “correct” (i.e. Catholic) Christian religion in Russia (which has Orthodox Christianity). I left immediately.

Making such generalizations and assumptions can often land you in funny situations.

• The other day a big fat guy was sitting in the subway, with one vacant seat next to him. Since I like personal space, I preferred to stand rather than take that seat. A couple entered the coach in haste and the lady immediately ran to snatch that empty seat (Hint: That’s how you can tell if someone is new to Toronto – they rush!). Something happened and the next thing I know, the fat guy started grumbling loudly in Spanish at the couple. There were some angry exchange of words between them in Spanish. Apparently the couple was making fun of the fat guy’s fatness in Spanish, assuming that the fat guy didn’t understand them. Oops!
• Also in the subway, I was once riding with my ex-boss who speaks Italian for some reason. Two college girls sitting opposite to us were giggling and talking something that seemed like girl-talk. My boss told me later that the girls were talking, in Italian, about boys and their recent sexual experience with all sleazy details. No wonder my boss didn’t talk to me the entire time we were in the subway, (I think she was learning new tricks from the girls)!

So you see, Toronto is full of language surprises and these are just few random stories I remember. There was a time a white guy speaking fluent Hindi puzzled me, but now I kinda take that for granted, I’ve seen atleast three such creatures this year.

That’s why I love Toronto so much.

¶ Blogged by Priyank Thatte

Does the music you are listening to affect your walking style? Do you walk better with some people than others?

I walk a lot and often with an ipod plugged into my earphones. I’ve noticed that my walking style (pace, stride, etc.) are greatly influenced by the music track I am listening to. I have also been noticing that I walk better with some people than others, as if the rhythm of our movements was strengthening or hampering interpersonal chemistry. I was especially sensitive about this when I was dating. It added to the something does/doesn’t feel right feeling about the other person. If I am walking with someone, I try to match my walking characteristics to that of the other person, almost as a reflex, sometimes taking fast, smaller steps, and sometimes taking large, slower steps. But there is always a time when walking with someone is not smooth.

Personally, I have analyzed the origins of this behavior and it probably has something to do with the sense of rhythm programmed into me. Being a musician, counting the beats and perfectly maintaining gaps during improvisation is a skill that’s necessary, not just a good-to-have thing, especially in the mathematical progressions of Indian classical music, – as I’m told. After few years of practise, the task of measuring the beats and playing on-beat or off-beat becomes a task that’s relegated to one’s reflexes and my active brain is now focused exclusively on coming up with something to play next. So when I am walking with someone, or listening to music, I have this obsession of aligning my walking rhythm to the external rhythm that’s “given” to me. And if that doesn’t work, I get frustrated.

For example, last night I was listening to “With or Without You” (U2) while walking to the grocery store. I listen to that kind of music (i.e. western) on my regularly-irregular morning runs, and it works perfectly well because for every beat on U2’s drums, I have 2 steps of mine (1:2 ratio). Last night however, I was trying to match my walking to the music but those 3-something minutes were very uncomfortable because the beats were too slow no matter how large strides I took.

Then there are people who walk in a disorganized manner. Slow, fast, slow again, big steps, small steps…. what the hell! Obviously, we will never have a second date (unless they are terribly cute).

Maybe rhythmic walking could be used as a therapy: Just like watching a goldfish helps heart patients, walking in the rhythm of certain music might help people since it combines discipline and exercise. Coupled with synchronised breathing, I feel that rhythmic walking is a great way to make a trip to the grocery store really productive.

¶ Blogged by Priyank Thatte

Seven Pounds is a 2008 film, directed by Gabriele Muccino. Will Smith stars as an IRS man with a fateful secret who embarks on an extraordinary journey of redemption by forever changing the lives of seven strangers.

I was never a fan of Will Smith because I don’t like action movies – especially the ones that have a fake science fiction or a thriller feel to them. This was the first time I saw him act in a drama, a movie without guns or fight scenes, and I think he can do better. Will played the subdued character somewhat okay, although at some points in the movie, his expressions made me laugh: simply putting a sad depressed face is not enough in this day and age.

When I heard the title of the movie, it reminded me of Shylock, the Jewish money lender from Shakespeare’s play The Merchant of Venice, in which Shylock demands one pound of flesh as a loan repayment penalty from his rival. This movie does nothing of that sort, although it does involve transfer of human organs.

The movie starts with a suicide call and nobody knows what’s going on until scenes from the main character’s recent past are revealed one at a time. I must say that the basis of Will Smith’s drama of repentance is extremely flimsy – had they shown this at the beginning of the movie, I would have watched the movie at 2x speed. At some points, I did wonder if the movie was based on selfless generosity or mere egotism. Romance, there’s Rosario Dawson, was probably added as an afterthought and it makes no rational sense (but then some would argue that love is irrational).

I won’t further spoil the plot for those who will hopefully watch the movie – I would say that the movie is emotionally satisfying but intellectually shallow. There are very very few movies that make my eyes moist, and this was one of those.

¶ Blogged by Priyank Thatte

I’m living in Toronto’s Parkdale neighborhood for over a year now. The neighbourhood has several personalities, but the one I am going to talk about today is the hood’s begging scene. If I imagine asking people their opinion of the number of beggars in Parkdale, I’d probably get these responses:

An Economist would say: “The number of beggars-per capita is very high.”
A Mathematician would say: “The ratio of number of people to number of beggars is very low.”
An Engineer would say: “The concentration of beggars per square meter is very high.”
A Sociologist would say: “What you are measuring is actually a sign of social degradation and deprivation – how insensitive!”
A MBA (i.e. someone like me) would say: “These people are wasting their time here.”

You heard me right, I may not know the social theories regarding the cause of begging – whatever they are, they don’t matter. But one thing is clear – Parkdale is not the place to beg. Let me explain why.

The dollar store in my neighborhood, with one of the begging spots. Image courtesy Google maps street view.

See that dollar store? A dollar store is a sign that screams two things:
#1. “We sell crappy Made-in-China goods for a dollar”
#2. “This neighborhood is full of people who will buy that crap”
The dollar store is not the only sign – there are several thrift stores, discount stores, pawn shops, junk stores, cheap restaurants etc. It’s a great place to get deals and bargains. The neighborhood is full of rental apartment buildings (perceived by certain bloggers as being owned by slumlords), large number of people living on social welfare, community centers, etc. To summarize, Parkdale is a place filled with poor people* and low income families.

This place should ideally be a nightmare for a professional beggar – right?

But for some reason, it seems that Parkdale is also the home to all beggars in Toronto. Clearly, these guys haven’t done any market research, market survey, target segmentation, and their implementation shows a complete lack of strategy.

Some picture from some forwarded email. This is no longer funny

Therefore, as an almost-MBA dude, and since I find it prudent to dispense advice even if people won’t take it, I have decided to share my insights with anyone who asks me for change the next time. The beggars in Parkdale, and there are a lot of them, must go somewhere else. Not for the sake of the residents, not for the sake of the neighborhood, but for their own good – if you wan’t to beg, atleast do it right! For starters, I propose they go to Bay street, which is just 20 minutes away in downtown Toronto (a place full of tall glass buildings, people wearing dark suits, perfume and makeup …and no beggars!)

¶ Blogged by Priyank Thatte